What happens after happily-ever-after?
When Charlotte met billionaire Jackson Reed, she was enthralled with his power and his dark interests. But after a kinky whirlwind romance and years of marriage, their sexual fervor diminished even as their companionship strengthened. Now Charlotte is faced with a dilemma, and she finds unexpected advice in the words of a cocky young bartender. Just how far will she go to rekindle the fierce passion of the man she loves?
This 12k word erotic romance short story is intended for adult readers who enjoy power dynamics in billionaire relationships, a hot wife who resorts to cuckolding her dominant husband to reclaim his attention, an alpha male whose fire is reignited just when she needs it the most, and a renewed happily-ever-after that comes in many unexpected shades.
"Charlotte," she choked, then added, "sir."
"How long have you worked for me?"
"Two--two days. I'm just a temp, sir, filling in for a couple weeks."
She blinked, looking up, and his stony gaze skewered her. He didn't utter a word, just fixed her with a long, thoughtful stare. Her breath condensed in her chest, like it was squeezing in on itself, and her face burned with shame. It didn't help that he was so attractive, if anything, it made her feel worse.
She finally broke the silence herself.
"Are you--" She gulped. "Are you going to make me pay for the computer? I don't have the money now, but I can work it off if you let me."
"The information on that laptop is worth more than you'll make in a lifetime," he said offhandedly.
She bit down on her lip, afraid she was going to cry. He was going to sue her. He would fire her, then round up a gang of lawyers and send them after her head. They would take what little she had, and she'd never be able to go back to school.
"Is there anything else I can do?" She sniffled.
He didn't answer. Instead, he walked to the far side of the long desk, the end without the pool of coffee, and tapped an idle finger on the dark wood surface. Seeming to come to some decision, he slowly pushed the piles of books off the edge--one by one, falling down to the floor.
What was he doing? She assumed he would have been furious by now, seething with rage. But he was unreadable. She watched in silence from her kneeling position, as coffee dripped off one end of the desk and papers dropped from the other.
He turned to her, pointing down with one finger. "Bend over the desk here."
"Don't make me repeat myself."
She swallowed hard, and stood up on shaky legs. What is he going to do to me? She wondered, as she took slow steps, closing the distance between them. I don't have to do this, she thought. I could leave and find another job. But between his tone and his eyes like blue storm clouds, she was captive.